


Transatlantic

by Maggiemaye



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Possessive Behavior, set in a magical fantasy world where everything is fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asgardians on a plane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transatlantic

**Author's Note:**

> A little Sifki thing to get my feet wet. I've loved this pairing forever but this is my first attempt at writing them, so feedback is appreciated! Also, I go by magnoliamagic on Tumblr if you'd like to say hi :) Thanks for clicking!

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

Loki saw the way the flight attendant let her eyes trace up and down his form, just as the last one had. He had been noticing all morning, and indeed preening a little more than was necessary. If he'd been free to do so, he could do very well with Midgardian females. But he had already been claimed, long since, as the spoils of War.

Unfortunately for the girl, Sif had noticed her gawking as well.

"He does not require your services," she snapped, her voice blade-sharp. Loki felt his lip curl into a smirk as she placed her hand high on his thigh, giving him a firm squeeze. The flight attendant blinked and stepped back, scurrying away.

"This is just like a rickety flying Asgard," Sif grumbled. "Complete with serving wenches at your beck and call."

"I tried to avoid this," Loki reminded her, which only deepened her scowl.

"Yes, yes, with your magical stealth. A lot of good that did us."

_"That_ was entirely your fault," he pointed out, smirking even though Sif was quite clearly not in the mood. The memory still brought a grin to his lips, though. He had indeed tried to get them to Jane Foster's residence via one of his more shrouded paths. But his concentration had been well clouded by his lady's wandering mouth and hands. It had been a fine game to her, seeing how quickly she could drive him to distraction, but in the end her wiles had worked too well. An exquisitely timed brush of her palm across the front of his trousers and they had landed in Spain.

It would have been well within his abilities to get them to Jane’s residence in an instant. But using his magic on Midgard was ill-advised. S.H.I.E.L.D. had eyes everywhere and he had no desire to alert them to his presence. So the travelling pair had been left with little choice but to rely on Midgardian transportation

"If anyone is to blame here," he went on, "it is surely Thor, for inviting us."

“Don’t act like you did not want to come,” she said, the last word coming out as a gasp when the plane started to lurch beneath them. Her hand flew from his thigh to curl around the armrest like a vice, bracing herself against the sudden turbulence.

“Of course I looked forward to it.” He kept his tone light as the blood drained from her face, watching as she grew more infuriated with each word. “In fact, had I known our journey would be this…eventful…I would have insisted we come sooner.”

“Hold your tongue, liesmith, unless you wish me to rip it from your throat. I thought you said we were in no danger on this vessel.”

“We are perfectly safe, my lady, upon my honor. I would never have guessed you would be a nervous flier.”

“I am not _nervous,”_ she spat.“I simply wish to be on the ground again. The Giving of Thanks day had better be worth this torture.”

“I am quite sure it will be,” Loki replied evenly, finding that it was the truth. He had not seen Thor in some time, and the Midgardians apparently had several holidays for homecomings.

"Jane would be honored if you both could come for Giving of Thanks,” Thor had said the last time he’d been in Asgard, clasping Loki and Sif by the shoulders exuberantly enough to sting. “Though I do not quite understand the purpose of the holiday except to gather with family and eat."

"Just eat?"

"That is how it was explained to me. Darcy has declared it a day of eating oneself unconscious."

Neither Sif nor Loki had found any objection to _that._ And if asked, it was the promise of feasting that drew him to this realm. Certainly not the earnestness of his brother’s invitation, or the way Sif’s hand had curled around his at the mention of family.

The plane had finally stopped shaking; Loki swallowed hard, dislodging the sudden obstruction in his ears. Sif thrashed around in her seat, trying to get comfortable even though every muscle in her body was rigid.

"Perhaps we should have gotten you one of those neck pillows, my lady. The one with tiger stripes would have suited you particularly well, I think."

She threw him a look so withering he might have recoiled, had he not been securely fastened into his seat.

"My _neck_ is not the problem," she spat. "The problem is this aircraft. We should have magicked ourselves across this thrice-damned ocean, Loki, S.H.I.E.L.D. be damned. I would have the head of any agent who tried to take you."

He refused to smile fondly down at her, refused to acknowledge the little warmth that blossomed in his stomach at her words.

"Mmmhm," was all he said, stroking his thumb over the knuckles of her left hand. As he stroked, he felt her gradually relax her death grip on the armrest. A few more passes of his thumb and the tension was releasing from her neck and shoulders. He could practically see the magic coursing through her muscles, soothing and massaging. She moved to loop her arm through his, resting her cheek against his shoulder, and Loki noted that the armrest bore the mark of her grip.

"Ever the trickster,” she chided, but there was such a warm hum in her tone that Loki knew he was not meant to feel guilty.

He smiled at the ceiling. "No tricks, my lady, only magic put to beneficial use. It is a long flight. I do not want you to be miserable."

"You don't want to listen to me talk about how miserable I am, you mean."

"So it is mutually beneficial."

Sif sighed, but it sounded more content than exasperated to Loki’s ears. "Later we will have words, Silvertongue."

"Mm, promise?"

She might normally have given his arm a teasing swat. But Loki suspected that would require too much energy in her current languid state, and indeed she simply sank further into her seat. The plane lurched again, but this time Sif was calm, and they passed the next several minutes in silence. Loki pretended to be asleep whenever the flight attendants would pass, resting his cheek against Sif's glossy dark hair. Once he felt her bare her teeth as footsteps passed on his left side, and he fought to keep his lips from twitching.

"I rather think we should visit this realm more often," he murmured, raising his head to look down at her. "This jealous streak becomes you."

"Not jealous," she protested. "I simply don't want others trying to claim what is mine."

She blinked slowly up at him, relaxed but still very much alert. Any mortal—and indeed, many other Asgardians—would have been cross-eyed and drooling with the potency of his spell. It was a testament to his lady's strength of body and of will that such measures were required. The next patch of turbulence came and she didn't bat an eye.

“Have no fear of that, my lady,” he murmured, and his words were met with an appreciative hum. “I would belong to no one but War herself.”


End file.
